We'll Talk Again
by NicolinaN
Summary: Those words have always fascinated me. What if he'd made good of that threat? What would the outcome had been if he she'd been unable to shoot him. Would he kill her? Would SHE kill him? They meet again, and this time it IS personal. JL.
1. Eye Of A Killer

**Disclaimer:** It's only during nights that I dream of possessing Jackson… or possibly Cillian… In real life I have no rights.

**Feedback:** It makes me really happy, and is very much appreciated. You're welcome to speak even if there was something you didn't like very much. Review ahead.

**Author's note: **"We'll talk again"… has always tickled my imagination so much… what would happen if he'd made good of that threat? Would he kill her? Would SHE kill him? I'm letting them meet again… And now it's personal!

**-**

**We'll Talk Again**

**-**

**Chapter 1 Eye Of A Killer**

Lisa tumbled down the stairs with an excruciating pain searing through her back as it repeatedly hit the steps.

_He pushed me!_

For some reason, somehow, she had thought that he wouldn't hurt her. Ridiculous as it seemed, in the last moment at the top of the stairs, she'd thought she'd seen something akin to remorse in his insanely blue eyes. Wanting - no, needing - to push that feeling away, she'd hurt him all she could. 'You're pathetic' she'd spat, seeing his gaze darken into rage.

And now she was paying the repercussions.

With a twist.

She landed with a thud almost at the bottom of the stairs. Dizzily, she raised her head and stared up at Jackson who had begun moving. With the world tilting in a nauseating angle, closing her eyes once and opening them again to get her bearing, she still saw him bend down to pick something up from the floor and heard the whisper of steel. _Oh God!_ Lisa sobered immediately; she knew all too well what lay there. She'd shoved it there herself in their struggles.

_His knife!_

Moaning, and in spite of the pain, she began to crawl away from him. _I must get away. I must defend…_ Her eyes fell on the unbelievable sight of a weapon right in front of her. It was the gun she had last seen in the hands of the hitman in front of her father's door. It had almost killed her.

Now it could save her life.

Quickly glancing back at Jackson, who slowly limping, and with great effort made his way relentlessly down the stairs, she went for the gun. With trembling hands, she tried to get it right, finger at the trigger, heart in her throat, begging to some higher spirits that it would still have bullets left.

She heard him closer, spun over on her back and aimed at him in the last moment. He had gotten almost to the bottom of the stairs, and stopped flat in his progress as he spotted the gun. He stared like he couldn't believe his eyes.

_Believe it you bastard! _

Lisa shook with fear as she met his cold eyes. She saw the long knife in his right hand and her heart rate sped up even more if that was physically possible. He really meant to kill her. _Don't do this, Jackson. Don't…_

She was interrupted in her thoughts when Jackson cocked his head and smiled unpleasantly. His eyes flickered between the gun in her hand and back at the entrance, seemingly acknowledging the sounds of sirens that grew stronger. Lisa's gaze didn't budge; she kept him in focus, knowing that if she weakened for only a moment he'd be on her in a heartbeat.

"We'll talk again," he rasped, two fingers held over the hole in his throat, his glacial eyes never leaving hers, hypnotizing her with their intensity… and hate.

Her eyes darted between his eyes and his throat and the wound she knew existed there, the damage she'd done with a pen when she'd tried to get away from him before. Unsuccessfully, as it turned out to be. It was probably the very reason that he'd followed her here, into her father's home. And he wouldn't stop coming after her…

_NO! We're NOT gonna talk again! I'm putting an end to this, here and now._

"Don't move," she said between clenched teeth in a low hoarse voice.

Her head was spinning. All her fear, and all her anger of yet again being a victim, grew into an internal scream. _I'm not letting you leave with the upper hand, leaving me afraid and beaten. Not again. Once was enough… him… two years ago was enough…_ She pointed the weapon at him, and squeezed the trigger. It was a lot harder to do than she had thought, though. The shot didn't go off immediately, and she realized she still just held her stiffened finger there. When she made another attempt, her hands began to tremble violently, and all the agony she'd experienced welled up inside of her.

_He's going to kill you! SHOOT HIM! _

_NOW! _

With numb hands that barely obeyed her anymore, the gun got increasingly heavy and began to lower itself in front of her; the barrel no longer pointing directly at Jackson.

_I can't..._

Jackson took a long stride closer to her, but as the sounds of the sirens became deafening, they stared at each other a moment longer. Then he smirked with eyes that told her just how pathetic he thought she was. "Gotta go, Leese. Sorry to disappoint... I'll get back to you."

He bolted, knife still in hand, past her where she lay disgracefully slumped at the cold stone floor of the hallway, and out through the rear entrance of the kitchen where her dad must still be. She stared emptily in front of her at the spot where he'd been standing a moment ago. It was like it still radiated heat from his body; like she could see the ghost of his non-existing soul.

_Dad! _

Lisa lay beaten for a second longer, then she scrambled to her knees and got on her feet. On wobbly legs, she made it to the kitchen where she was met by her father who had finally woken up.

"Who was that man that rushed past me? What's happened here, Leese? And how are YOU?" He gripped her arm and regarded her with a serious expression. Lisa grasped for his shoulder, and two shaken humans held on to each other for a few endless moments, gathering some much needed strength.

Lisa, who felt like she would throw up, and knew she must be looking rather dishevelled by now, didn't object as Joe Reisert put her on a soft chair, wrapping a blanket around her. He rubbed the spot on his head where he'd been hit and started to say something but Lisa interrupted, "There's going to be a lot of questions, dad. A lot of people are going to be interested in a lot of things that only I can answer…" She bit her lower lip before she continued. "Things have happened… I'll explain to you later…"

_Where did he go? Oh my God, where did he go? _

Not until now, did she realise that Jackson had escaped… and that his last words had been something about talking again… Meeting again… _Oh my GOD! _Her fear returned with full strength. She moaned quietly and covered her face with her hands.

_What have I done?_

_-_

_-_

The sound of the door bell cut sharply and unexpectedly through the silent apartment. Lisa jerked with surprise. She had just washed her hair and now she hastily tied a towel around it in a knot.

The last week had been a mess of interrogations with men in black suits, special agents this and that. She couldn't help but seeing the humour in it, her thoughts straying to movie caricatures. 'Men In Black'… 'X-Files'… She wondered if they really took themselves as seriously as they seemed to be doing.

The issue in itself was serious, though. A terrorist organisation had tried to murder an upstanding politician and his family as revenge for the US government's foreign politics. _'Send a big brash message' he said… _Lisa had been held captive on an airplane for hours by Jackson Rippner, threatened until she made a phone call that would place Mr Keefe and his family where the terrorists could reach them.

What annoyed her and made her think compulsively of Will Smith and David Duchovny, amongst others, was that they questioned her story. Not openly yet, but she could feel it in the air, knowing that at some point they would bring it out. They implied that she'd been part of it, or that she hadn't been fighting back hard enough. It felt like this too was a part of the plot against her.

That enraged her.

_You should have seen me!_

It was Friday night, and she had no scheduled appointments with the agents until Monday. Two days of resting her head.

It should worry her that Jackson was still out there. He had promised, no threatened, her that he'd be back. But why would he? Surely a professional like him had better things to do than to run around for revenge. Lisa didn't know, and she was too tired to think of it anyway.

-

-

Walking out of the bathroom, she steered her steps towards the front door as she glanced at her wrist watch. _Half past ten… It's a bit late, dad. _He had come by randomly several nights already since the red eye flight and the fight for life and death in his house. He needed it for his own peace of mind, to see that his only child was doing OK, but it was also for Lisa, for her safety.

At least that's what he'd told her, and she hadn't objected. It really didn't matter who needed it the more, she felt cared for and that was a much needed feeling after... well, Jackson.

_Bless you..._

Lisa unhooked the safety chain, while correcting the painting on the wall next to the door with her other hand. Since they had provided her with the guard who stood posted downstairs, she didn't feel like she even had to lock the door, but still she attached the chain by routine every time she closed it.

She smiled as she thought of the giant man downstairs. He had charcoal black skin, almost like polished ebony, and cheekbones to die for. He was ridiculously tall, heavily built and would have appeared threatening if it hadn't been for the fact that he was talking about his three little girls all the time. Lisa had seen their pictures and they looked so sweet she could've eaten them.

With the smile lingering on her lips, she turned the knob and pulled the door open, expecting her father to be standing with that friendly, slightly worried face that he had displayed these last few days.

But standing outside her door wasn't her father, and it wasn't a friendly face at all.


	2. You Knew This Would Happen

**Disclaimer: **Ah, you know. Don't own… :(

**Feedback:** Makes an author a happy camper.

**-**

**Chapter 2 You Knew This Would Happen**

It was her worst nightmare; the man her brain refused to remember the actual face of because it hurt too much. All she remembered were eyes; crystalline, cold, lethal, beautiful...

It was Jackson Rippner.

He was glaring at her with that demon-like blue gaze from under the dark tresses of hair that partly covered his face. One hand was resting at the door frame next to her, his head slightly cocked.

Lisa's first confused thought was, _what took you so long_, but then she reacted with her gut and screamed and tried to slam the door shut again. His foot snuck in and stopped the movement, and instead it slammed violently back open again. Her heart had stopped beating and her head spun with fright. Images flashed before her mind; Jackson with a knife; Jackson choking her in the airplane; Jackson with a pen in his throat; Jackson caressing her scar; Jackson smiling at the airport…

…Jackson coming to kill her, like she had seen in her dreams, night after night for a week.

"No!" She stumbled backwards and tried to get out of his reach, but Jackson bolted into the hallway and grabbed her arm as he threw the door shut behind him. She screamed again and yanked her arm to free herself of his grip, but he tightened his hold and brutally gripped for her mouth with his other hand, muffling her cries.

"Hi, Leese," he smirked and shoved her into the opposite wall. "We meet again."

Lisa thrashed in his hold and beat at his arm, yanking and pulling, trying to break free. Jackson let go of her mouth, took a firm grip of her other arm as well and pushed her up against the wall. Shoving a leg up between hers and pressing against her, his face a mere inch from hers temporarily ended her struggles in his grasp. They both panted and glared at each other, then Jackson smirked in triumph and Lisa looked away in defeat.

When he stirred, she looked back at him with a pale frightened face. "What are you doing here?" she breathed with a hoarse voice. Then it dawned on her. "What did you do to Jay?"

"Jay who?" he sneered into her face.

"My… the guard downstairs… Please don't tell me you killed him, please!" In spite of her own precarious situation, her mind filled with images of the huge, friendly man the police had posted at her house to guard her. "What did you DO to him!" She tried to break out of his hold, but he held her in a steel grip.

"You know, Leese, you really should worry more about your own situation, than about some fat lazy guard down there who's not doing his job… You know… ANYTHING could happen to you while he's messing around… ANYBODY could show up here, on your door step." He snickered. "I'd hate to see you get hurt… Leese…" His voice rasped when he spoke, and her eyes instinctively fell on his throat where the collar of the shirt hid the wound.

"Have you killed him?" _Please, tell me you haven't! …what do you mean 'my own situation'? _

"Awww, Leese… you two connected?"

Lisa twisted and yanked angrily, trying to get her arm out of his grip.

"HAVE YOU HURT HIM!"

Jackson smirked and shrugged. "He was on his cell phone and looked so peaceful. I didn't have the heart to disturb him. Ergo; he doesn't know I'm up here and he thinks you are alone… all night… Turns out he's wrong… doesn't it?"

What are you doing here?"

"Well, my dear, WE have unfinished business. And you KNEW I'd come back. It was only a matter of time, really." The slight raspy dissonance in his voice was enhanced as he emphasised some of the words.

_Yes… I knew._ He'd already come to her every night. Every single hour she'd woken up, sweating and squirming from yet another nightmare.

Lisa yanked once more in his steel grip. He had never held her like this before and she hadn't gotten the impression that he was this strong when they had fought a few days earlier. Maybe she'd just been lucky then…

"Let me go, Jackson," she gasped, exhausted, and hung in his arms.

He regarded her for a moment, his crystalline eyes flashed, and for a fleeting second she thought he'd let her go, that he'd change his mind. Then the moment passed, Jackson tightened his jaws and abruptly pulled her forward. With their chests colliding, he propelled her around and swung a forearm around her throat, partially obstructing her airways, sending a rush of fear through her chest.

"That's not on my agenda, Leese," he half whispered as he gave her a shove forward.

"Ja-Jackson," she rasped. "Please."

"Please what?" he taunted, clearly unimpressed by her struggling and begging as he began to partially drag, partially push her from the hallway through the corridor to her bedroom. He shoved the door open and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed.

Lisa's eyes went impossibly big. _No, he wouldn't! _

"Don't… Jackson… don't…" She began to fight him off her, as he climbed up on the bed. Lisa's face was an image of terror and Jackson's of increasing irritation. She screamed and clawed at him, tried to bite the hand that held her throat, slapped at the hand that gripped her blouse and kicked her legs to try to hit him and to get some balance. Jackson met her every move with a perfectly pitched counter move, holding her down by her throat as he immobilised her legs with one of his own, his other hand clutching her wrists in a steel grip.

Finally she lay limp in his hold, gasping, exhausted, chest heaving, frightened to death. She was going to have bruises all over and she could see angry red marks on his throat where she had scratched him.

_This is not happening!_

"Don't do it, please," she begged. "I thought you were…" She went quiet and looked away, swallowing hard and angry.

He released her throat and instead gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him, snarling, "You thought I was WHAT?"

"Different," she mouthed in defeat.

His mouth twisted into a grin. He would have looked beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful, hadn't it been for the hateful expression on his features. His eyes looked cold and vicious, like there was nothing within him to plead with. Whatever she could say would go unheard. For a few moments during the flight, she had seen something else than the ice cold assassin… whatever it had been, it wasn't there now.

"I AM different."

Lisa mutely shook her head and looked to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze at all costs.

"Leese," he hissed, and gripped her chin harder until it felt like it would break in his hold. "You think you're above me, don't you? You believe you have higher standards... a better moral. That..."

Lisa could feel a tear slid down her cheek as she angrily tried to yank her head away. Meeting his eyes, she snarled, "I don't have to think!"

She screamed as he slapped her cheek, hard. Her head flew to the side; it stung at first, and then it turned into a dull pulsating ache. It hurt, but not as much as it pained her soul. It was true that she'd somehow thought he was different from just any other thug out there. She realized she was far from as afraid as she should be. That was probably the reason why she had dared to fight him in the first place; some kind of stupid belief that the Jackson she had been chatting friendly with at the Tex Mex restaurant back at the airport was still in there. And that he didn't want to hurt her... not for real.

A cold shiver of doubt and fear crept up on her as she hesitantly met his gaze. _What if I'm wrong?_

Jackson looked long and hard at her, and then he sighed barely noticeable and let her go, sitting back on the bed next to her. He tightened his lips into a thin white line and gave her a calculating glance before he spoke. "Here's what we'll do. Let's not complicate things more than they already are; we have business we need to finish. You might get out of this... or you may not. It's entirely up to you, but I need you compliant… and I fucking know you, Leese. You're trouble, but I'll give you one chance to get to play this nicely."

He got up from the bed and left an unexpected cold spot on her hip where his body had been. "I wouldn't make any long term plans, though... if I were in your clothes."

Lisa's lower lip trembled and she bit it, trying not to show her fear. Her hand touched her aching cheek as she glanced cautiously at him. "Wh...why?"

Jackson laughed coldly; two fingers briefly caressing his throat. "Your stocks aren't that high at the moment, Leese."

"Just let me go," she whispered. "Please."

"Not until I get what I want from you."

Her heart stopped. _What is that?_ "What?"

"I need you to make a phone call."


	3. We Have Unfinished Business

**Author's Note:** Thank you all for all the lovely reviews. A phone call? Cliché? Well, that's what someone else thought too… (see below) :D I wanted to explore what could've been the next logical step if he hadn't been shot, and had gotten away at that point instead. Would he still need to get the job done? Or would he be more out for revenge…?

Have a good read / Nicolina.

**-**

**Chapter 3 We Have Unfinished Business**

Lisa surprised herself by laughing. But the borderline hysterical giggle ended abruptly as Jackson jumped at her, slamming her back down on the bed, making her head bounce twice on the mattress.

"I'm NOT joking," he rasped hoarsely.

Lisa's breath hitched in her chest as she felt a sharp edge of metal over her jugular. Her eyes grew wider and the tears came rolling again.

"Don't," she wheezed. "Please."

"Kindness's out of stock. Do you wanna live?" he growled.

She could only nod.

"Make a call."

_No way!_ She nodded again, and the knife disappeared.

Jackson rose from the bed again and began pacing the room by the end of the bed. Lisa sat up, curled up and hugged her knees. Her whole body was shivering and she felt both flustered and deadly cold at the same time. She watched him warily; he still held the long knife in his right hand, and he looked merciless.

His collar had been pushed a little to the side in their struggles. He had a small rectangular bandage covering the wound in his throat, which was all that was visible after the intense fighting a few days ago. A few tresses of his hair were in disorder. Part from that, he looked just as flawless as he had when they had first met back at the airport in Texas. It wasn't fair. Lisa were suffering from insomnia, had a consistent pain in her back after falling down the stairs and her headache hadn't quite subsided yet.

And that was only her old injuries. She already hurt in new places all over.

"What do you want me to do?" she finally asked, temporarily subdued.

Jackson stopped and glared at her. "You call Keefe, tell him to meet you at The Sharif any night from now within a week. That's all you need to know. Do your smooth talk, say what needs to be said to close the deal. I'll handle it from there. You do that and this can all be over."

_Right, and Charles Keefe will be dead… and I will be…? _

Lisa heard the frightening similarity with what he had told her before, on the airplane. She didn't believe him then, and she didn't believe him now. So she did everything to delay the inevitable. "But it's too late." She shook her head. "He'll never buy that I call him at this hour. He'll be suspicious."

Jackson watched her coldly. "He has late habits. Trust me. Tell him you're suffering from insomnia… That's the truth anyway… isn't it? " He licked his lower lip as he glared challengingly at her.

She did trust him. And the knowledge that he was well acquainted with Keefe's habits as well as updated on her own condition made her want to vomit. "What if he can't make it?"

"Then you die."

She twitched and looked at him. Then she looked away and squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat. She wanted to plead with him, to beg him to bring out that good Jackson she was sure still existed in there.

She had dreamt about him.

Lisa didn't want to admit that, but she had dreamt a lot about this unbelievably blue-eyed man the last week. It was all about him coming back… and only a few times had it included real danger… The rest of the dreams were… forbidden. Restricted Area. No access. Don't go there.

Dreams very far from the real situation before her.

She absentmindedly stroked the plaid covering her bed with the palm of her hand. It was a patchwork made by her grandmother. It was a beautiful craft.

_No one makes these things anymore._

_There's no time… everybody is running around… and killing each other. _

She jerked and glanced at the killer standing in front of her. He was in the path of her only escape route. Any attempt to get out of there would have to go through him. One way or the other.

_Reason with him._

Her lips were numb with fear as she spoke and she felt like she was on the verge of falling off a cliff with nothing to hold on to.

"When you followed me… for eight weeks… What did you think of? What was on your mind all that time? It must have been so boring…"

Jackson looked a little thrown. "What?" He frowned. "Is this another case of worrying about someone else's wellbeing when you should be concerned about your own?"

Lisa shook her head. "Maybe… Maybe I'm just hopeless. It's my job… to please people, to read others needs. And I'm good at it. I never do think about myself… And mostly that's on purpose. I… I guess I could say that my job suits me."

She sighed and focused intensely on a broken nail on her left index finger. Had it been broken in the fight? She clenched her hands into fists, not daring to meet with his gaze.

_What are you doing, Lisa?_

"What did you see Jackson? Mm? What did those weeks of surveillance tell you about me? Do you think you know more about me than I know myself? Did I look OK? Is my life something people would envy me? Would YOU like to live my life? Maybe we should change?" She knew the bitterness in her voice betrayed her, but she was unable to hold it back; once the words had started flowing they just didn't stop.

Jackson took a step closer and her eyes darted up to meet his. He had an unreadable expression on his face as he gently gripped her chin, and then he abruptly slapped her cheek again. Her whole body reverberated from the impact and she curled up in pain and humiliation, tears streaming down her burning cheeks.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong way to go…_

"I think you're losing it, Leese, and I think you'd better shape up and start dealing with the situation because you are quickly losing interest to me."

Lisa did the probably stupidest thing she'd done so far in her life, she gripped his hand and held it as she spoke from her heart. "Haven't you hurt me enough? Why do you come back, hitting me and threatening me? I have done nothing to you… except for defending myself."

He pulled loose from her, and with the speed of a cobra he'd entwined his hand in the hair at the back of her neck, forcing her to lean her head back to relieve some of the pressure on her scalp. With her throat bared to him, she struggled to not fall on her back with him on top as he leaned close to her and hissed, "I distinctly remember sitting peacefully in my chair when someone - " He yanked her hair for emphasis. " – Stabbed a fucking Frankenstein pen in my throat."

Lisa's shirt had slipped and it now revealed the scar as she leaned back in an uncomfortable angle. Jackson looked down and suddenly planted a long kiss on it, making her heart leap and sending shivers all over. She felt repulsed and still her body sent off confusing signals of another kind as well.

"Jackson," she croaked. "Please don't…"

He looked up at her with a curled upper lip. "And don't you for one moment believe that your rape story impresses me, or makes me pity you!"

Lisa tried to get her beating heart under control and snapped back at him. "I think it does. I think you have some empathy buried deep down under those layers of coolness and indifference."

"Think again, Leese. I'm here to get the job properly done and then kill you. Just like that." He snapped his fingers right in front of her face, making her blink. "It's called taking care of business."

"You can't. You wouldn't!"

"And why is that?"

"Because then you would have already. You care for me, you won't kill me."

Faster than her eye could catch, the cold steel blade of his knife re-emerged and was pressed against her throat. "You are just a job that needs to be finished," he snarled between clenched teeth.

Lisa gasped and twisted her head away from him, trying to ease the pressure of the lethal knife. "Then finish it!" she yelled. "Do it, Jackson! If you don't do it now, your threats will never work on me again."

Tears spilled over her cheeks as she spoke the brave words; she didn't really believe them herself. She was fairly positive that she affected him on some level, but hardly enough to intervene with his job.

To her utter surprise, the knife disappeared. Jackson sucked in air between his teeth and let it out in an irritated wheeze. "I still need you."

"I'm not calling Keefe."

"YES YOU ARE!" he roared.

Lisa cringed under his fury and her eyes darted up to meet his, but her decision was made. If she'd had the chance to re-live the flight, then she'd never have made the call. The knowledge of having lives on her conscience had been a too heavy burden to carry even the eternal hour it had taken before she knew she had actually saved them. She would never do that again.

Looking away, she closed her eyes and willed him to get off her. To go away. Instead, her heart sped up when she felt his breath on her face.

"Don't fake indifference, Leese," he breathed. His voice was tainted with wickedness and when she looked up, she could trace a new streak of malice in his eyes that she hadn't seen before. "I know you're not that tough." He placed a knee next to her on the bed and sank down on her, grinding against her, and she could feel every bone in her body being crushed under his weight. His eyes narrowed. "What does it feel like? Having a man on top of you?"

"Oh, you bast- "

"You probably haven't had a man this close since what… two years? So, how does it feel, Leese? Comfy?"

His breath was on her face, and their noses were practically touching. Lisa squirmed and wriggled underneath him, but only managed to end up with his legs intertwined with her own, his chest crushing hers. She could feel every angry breath he took. "Get OFF me, you sick bastard!"

He smiled unpleasantly. "Make the call."

"No," she moaned.

Jackson took a hold around her neck again, still allowing the air through, but hard enough to hurt and making her clutch for his hand to get him off. While she was busy, trying to breath, he ripped the two top buttons of her blouse open.

Lisa went completely still. Petrified. _No, not again!_ With a dry mouth, she squeaked, "You're not that cruel…"

He snorted and squeezed her throat harder, hissing in her ear, his words cutting into her brain like a knife in butter. "The call."

Lisa only mutely shook her head. Tears were dimming her vision, and she had a frightening feeling that she had misjudged him. A small part of her still trusted him not to go through with it; killing or raping her… or both, but as black dots were beginning to emerge in the periphery of her sight, she knew she had lost as his iron grip tightened even more. "Well then…" he whispered.

Clutching desperately for his hands, and hammering at his head, her legs kicking without hitting anything substantial, darkness began to cloak her. They fell off the bed together in the last few seconds of the struggle and Lisa slammed her head in the radiator, but he still didn't let go.

Like from a distance she heard words, something about a call, but she couldn't really understand the meaning of it. With lungs burning from lack of air and her whole body screaming for a breath, everything went black.


	4. Not Everything Is Black And White

**Author's note: **I love you all for all the encouragement and engagement. I appreciate it a lot. You are worried about what Jackson might do to Lisa, and if he will… or won't….

Well… you'll just have to bear with me for a couple of more chapters. / Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 4 Not Everything Is Black And White**

Slowly, the light came back into Lisa's world.

She was lying on the side on the floor where she had fallen during the final seconds of the battle, her head pounded and she heard a static noise in her hears. Staring at the blurry sight of the dusty radiator an inch away from the tip of her nose, she wondered why she lay there. Suddenly everything came crashing down on her. Her hand flew up to her aching throat, and the involuntary deep intake of air felt like razor blades. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she coughed and tried to breathe through her damaged windpipe and a mouth dry like sand.

_I'm alive, I'm alive! He didn't…_

His black polished shoes came into her vision first. Squinting, she followed a black suit up to meet his face. He stood, passive, seemingly indifferent, looking down at her as she scrambled her limbs together and tried to get up. As her wobbly legs failed her, she staggered, but before she fell back to the floor, a firm hand gripped her upper arm and rather harshly pulled her up.

"You OK?"

She stared at him, incredulous, swaying back and forth, "What?"

He nodded at the chair, and Lisa stumbled there, sinking down onto the soft cushions. Jackson strode closer, his moves casual and still he looked like he could, and would, lash out at her any moment. Lisa sat warily, watching him approach. _You choked me! You almost killed me! Why?_ She was hurt, it wasn't logical, and it wasn't right, but she felt betrayed. Even her irrational pieces of thoughts seemed to worsen the intense headache, and her stomach revolted against the brutal treatment of her body.

"How long was I out?" she croaked, fighting back the nausea. _I don't feel well._

He shook his head. "Not long, half a minute maybe."

She nodded and gripped for her aching throat, rasping, staring at a button on his suit. "Can I have some water?"

He regarded her for a moment. "Sure."

Jackson motioned for her to come along and she rose. Feeling dizzy for a moment, she steadied herself with a palm against the wall and flinched when she felt a hand on her elbow. "Come on, Leese, you'll live," he said, not entirely unfriendly, and not sounding as hostile any more as he had before.

She swallowed another painful razorblade and followed him, still in his hold, into the kitchen. He supervised her quietly as she with shaking hands took a glass out of a cupboard and filled it with water from the tap. Before she turned it off, she also splashed some on her face to try to soothe her burning cheeks and calm the frightening turmoil inside. She grimaced with pain as she swallowed two big gulps of water, then she leaned the glass against her forehead, cooling her skin. Suddenly she convulsed and leaned over, dry retching into the sink. Trembling, she wiped the sweat off her forehead, feeling miserable, all the time sensing his vibrating, almost palpable, presence next to her.

She didn't want him to see her like this.

She didn't want to cry.

Not again.

Ever.

Time to be strong.

Time to fight back.

"Why didn't you kill me?" she finally whispered, staring at the basin.

Jackson leaned against the cupboard next to her and crossed his arms over his chest. "Leese," he snickered. "You make it sound like you're challenging me to kill you. Don't do that, that's a mistake you can't afford at this moment in your life."

"I'm not," she answered quickly, leaving her place next to him, where his closeness almost burned holes in her skin, and went to sit on a stool. "I'm just trying to figure out what you're doing here, and how I can get out of this without being hurt."

Jackson surprised her by laughing. "Don't bother your pretty little head with that. You won't. That's the only thing you need to know."

"You're not being very smart, Jack," she sneered. "If I know you're going to kill me when I've called Keefe, then why would it motivate me to make the call at all? Huh?"

He gripped her by the collar of her blouse and pulled her closer until their noses were practically touching. "It would make your death so much more painless," he breathed into her face through clenched teeth.

Lisa pushed at him, trying to pry his fingers away from her. When she didn't succeed, she leaned her face even closer to his until his blue eyes were but a blur. "Forget it, Jack," she quipped.

Jackson snapped and pulled her up abruptly, shoving her upwards. The chair tilted over and Lisa's head slammed painfully into the wall behind her. Holding a tight grip around her chin, he sneered; "Don't play brave. You are not up to this, Leese; you don't have it in you, just make the fucking phone call now and get this over with."

"This is getting old," she gasped, and tried to twist her head out of his grip. Jackson only responded by smirking viciously and pushing her harder, squeezing her between his body and the wall. "Get OFF me," she yelled and shoved her knee up, connecting it with his crotch, hearing him moan out loud in pain.

_NOW!_

When his grip loosened, she didn't bother to dwell in her success. She jerked her head away and went for the lamp by the window next to her; its foot was made of solid oak, and as she slammed it into Jackson's head, he slumped against her. Releasing herself from his body and letting it sag to the floor, she was finally free.

Lisa threw herself at the door, ready to leave the apartment and get away, but as she looked at the slumped form of Jackson Rippner lying in an awkward position on the floor, bleeding profusely from somewhere on the head, she hesitated. A stab of fear hit her; _what if he dies?_ She took one step closer to the door, her hand almost touching the knob. _Get out!_

He lay, unmoving; blood from his scalp was beginning to soak the carpet. _Get OUT!_

She turned the knob, and glanced back at him. _Jesus Jackson!_

Hesitantly, she tiptoed back, grabbing her phone on the way, and looked down at him. His eyes were closed, and his handsome face was for once not twisted in anger but looked peaceful and paler than she'd ever seen it before. Lisa pitied him. She couldn't understand his motives. How had he ended up in this position? _And why do I care? _Was it that she had liked him to begin with? That they had connected?

Whatever HER motives were, she just couldn't bare to leave him alone on her kitchen floor, bleeding and unconscious. She'd have to call an ambulance.

Lisa crouched next to him and touched his cheek hesitantly. He didn't move.

_I liked you… Once._

His day old stubble rasped against her soft fingertips while her heart pounded in fright. _What if he wakes up?_ Her fingers instinctively sought the pulse on the side of his throat where the bandage ended. It beat strong and regular. _Good._

When his eyes suddenly opened, Lisa screamed and threw herself backwards. Landing on her butt, she dropped the phone in the fall.

_Stupid. Stupidstupidstupid!_

She tried to get a hold of the phone, but his hand struck out and tightened around her wrist painfully hard, pulling her towards him. She gripped his hand with her other hand and tried to ease the hold. "Jackson, please. It hurts."

He scrambled to his knees and yanked her until she was halfway up, squeezed between him and the wall. The blood had soaked a part of his hair, and a small trickle fell past his temple and onto his cheek. "Please?" he taunted. "Please? Are you begging me to… do what, Leese? Let you go? Stop hurting you? Leave you alone?"

"Bingo," she rasped with a dry throat. "Can I choose all of the above?" She yanked again, trying to free herself of his constant grip. "Come on, I came back to see if you were OK, I could've just left…"

"- me with a massive headache…"

"Mmmyes… But I didn't… give me some credit for that."

His grip loosened a little but he didn't let go, pressing his lips together, he then snorted. "I'll give you this; you're actually a lot more stupid than I thought."

Lisa's inner clenched with fear. _Don't cry!_ He would never let her go. _He hates me… he's only thinking of his job… and… and… what he'll do after I've made the call… But I won't._

He surprised her by almost smiling. "Call Keefe and we can discuss the terms of… my departure."

Lisa sighed erratically. "Don't do this Jackson. You're not this man. I know you're not."

She yelped when he yanked her closer, "You don't know shit, Lisa!"

"I know you like me."

He stared at her, then he laughed out loud. "It's true. I do like you. You've got more balls under that skirt than most men I've met. You've been fun. Won't change shit, though, I've gotta get this done."

He let go of her arms and touched his bleeding head. "You got a towel or something?"

Lisa sighed and grimaced as she looked at the blood. "Does your head hurt?"

His eyes darted to meet hers and she was once more taken aback by the blue intensity in them. "Like hell."

She took a fresh kitchen towel from the cupboard next to the stove and threw it at him, watching as he caught it in mid air and pressed it against the wound. "Want some aspirin? I think I got some in the bathroom." The bathroom was located at the other end of the hallway, and if she could only get away for a moment, she could get past her front door, open it and get away.

He would live.

She probably wouldn't if she didn't do something.

"Nice try, Leese. But I ain't letting you out of my sight." _Damn!_

"Just let me go, Jackson. You don't need me for this. Call him yourself. You know, he'll never agree to meet me without all his security people and he will probably not agree to meet with me at all right now, after what happened and my part in it."

"Mere speculations that you could do without. He will agree to meet with you to express his deep gratitude towards Miss Lisa Reisert for saving his family."

"And I won't participate in hurting any of them again! Leave them alone!"

Jackson inhaled and slowly let the air out between his teeth. "Can't do that, no matter how much I'd have wanted."

"Why?"

"I have people above me that need to get this done and over with, at any cost. If I don't complete my contract… then I'll end up at the bottom of the river; face and hands cut off. Just another body. Like I never existed. Happens every day. But not to me. It's not going to happen to me."

"The ones that wanted to send the big brash message?"

"Exactly."

Lisa cringed at the thought of someone killing Jackson and then mutilating him. "Is that supposed to make me feel sorry for you?" she sneered, needing to get rid of the feeling of wanting to help him out of the situation. "YOU chose your own occupation, not me. Face your own consequences. I'm not taking part of this to save your life."

"What about your own life?" he asked, almost seductively softly.

"Are you telling me that you'd let me live after the call?"

"That what it sounds like?"

"No."

Jackson suddenly kicked Lisa's legs out from underneath her, making her falling over completely on her back. He loomed on top of her, pinning her body to the floor with the weight of his own.

"Oww…" she moaned as the air left her lungs at the impact.

"What would make you do the phone call….?" His index finger traced her bruised throat downwards to the hollow between her collar bones. _Don't. Don't touch me. _The touch made her skin tingle, giving her goosebumps.

"Nothing," she gasped, glancing down at what she could see of his hand. "There isn't anyone you can threaten to kill that will change my mind. Having someone's life on my conscience just isn't worth it."

"Nothing… Really? That's interesting." His fingers plucked at the remaining buttons of her blouse. Lisa's heart rate picked up.

_You wouldn't._


	5. What If I Don't

**Disclaimer: **Do I have to? _::looks at Jackson who glares back dangerously:: _Oh, OK, obviously. I don't own Red Eye…

**Author's Note: **Sadly… this is the last chapter… I'll ever write… NO! Just kidding. _::looks ashamed for the BAD sense of humour::_ …but it IS the last chapter of this story.

Jackson does things… Lisa responds… Nah, I'll leave it for you to find out.

Have a good read. Let me know what you thought of it, and take care ya'll until next time.

Hugs, Nic.

**-**

**Chapter 5 What If I Don't**

She tried to pry his fingers away, but he gripped her wrists and slammed them down on the floor above her head. He held them in one of his hands as he flipped open the second last button. The blouse was already half open, showing pale skin, a white bra and the scar. Squirming in his grip, she stilled as he spoke.

"Make the call," Jackson whispered.

Lisa shook her head mutely and Jackson ripped open the last button, exposing her chest to the air. She cringed and refused to look at him. Whatever he had in mind, she'd fight him to the last drop. She would never… ever… Not again. Right now he had her pinned, but sooner or later he'd have to shift position. At least if he was going to…

_Don't…_

Her throat ached with held back tears and her eyes burned; she hadn't felt so naked… so vulnerable since… for a very long time. Lisa jolted when she felt his hand on her skin; unexpectedly soft fingertips touching her right collar bone before gliding over to her marred chest. He stroked the scar with his thumb, like he had once in the airplane. Back… forth… back… almost sensual, challengingly…

_Jackson… just… don't…_

Her eyes darted up to meet with his, hoping to find some compassion. He had showed her that once, and she had thrown it away; despising him at the time for showing weakness towards her. Now she desperately needed it. _Show it again, please. Now would be a good time._ But she met a gaze that looked unreadable at best, painfully beautiful, and a lot colder than she'd have hoped for.

"The call," he whispered.

Lisa only looked away. Gathered strength. She had a feeling she'd need it.

She inhaled sharply as his hand moved further down. It hesitated slightly at the edge of her bra before it slid inside and cupped her breast, squeezing it lightly, the movement leaving burning traces on her chest.

Lisa wriggled underneath him, mutely trying to get away, but his thighs on each side of her hips, and the hand holding her arms stretched, efficiently restricted her movements. She breathed too hard, impulses from the skin on her breast shot like daggers through her body and screamed for attention.

He had a warm hand… and he wasn't hurting her… but it was …intrusive.

It was hers to give…

Not his to take.

_Get off. Get off. Get OFF!!!!!_

Her chest heaved erratically from fear and anger, and she was starting to detach herself from what was going on when she unexpectedly sensed a change of the mood in the room.

A change in Jackson.

Looking back up, afraid of the cruelty she would see, she opened her mouth in surprise. His gaze had softened and when their eyes met, he slowly pulled back his hand, leaving a cold feeling of emptiness on her skin.

He shook his head and placed a palm on the floor right next to her head, looming over her, looking her straight in the eyes. "What am I going to do with you? Huh? You'll never make the fucking call, will you?"

"N… never," Lisa acknowledged, stumbling on the words, surprised by how thick her voice suddenly sounded. She cleared her throat and shook her head, meeting his glacial gaze.

Jackson let go of her wrists. His grip had been so tight that her hands felt numb and cold from the strangled circulation. Now they tingled and ached when the blood rushed back. He rose to his knees and got off her. Lisa immediately pulled her blouse tight around her chest. Hiding her shame, her blushing skin… the scar…

She felt his eyes on her as she covered herself and shuffled back, up against the wall, hugging her legs. She looked up at him as he snorted and shook his head.

"I couldn't," he said flatly. He turned over and leaned his back against the wall next to her. "Fuck," he hissed, more to himself than to her.

"You couldn't what?" Her teeth wanted to shatter from the tension, but she clenched them, forcing herself to stay calm. She knew so damn well what she wanted him to say, but she was afraid it would be something entirely else.

"Ha." He laughed shortly and glanced at her, his gaze darting between her face and the chest she so carefully hid behind her knees before he returned to stare at the wall opposite them. "Force myself on you... I tried fucking twice… figured it'd tame you…But…It just doesn't work."

Lisa sighed quietly with immense relief, feeling like she exhaled for the first time in several minutes. "Then you're not as bad as you think."

He snorted again and his gaze darkened into a thunderous cloud as he tightened his jaw. "Believe me, I am."

Lisa shook her head. "No… I don't really believe that… That's not what I have seen."

His voice was sharp as the edge of his knife when he spoke, leaving no room for interpretation of what he said. "What you have seen, Lisa, are a few hours of my life… The things I've done… The life I've led… Things I'm gonna do…" He exhaled loudly and started over. "I failed this fucking mission because my heart wasn't in it. I had to go against what I thought was right… And it WAS a lousy plan; to pull it through like that."

Lisa's lips twitched into a half smile as she cocked her head. "I told you."

"…on an airplane," he sighed, more to himself. "If it had been up to me I'd have gotten you in Joe's house… much more efficient as a threat; having him tied up right in front of you, a knife to his throat… Would you have dared to be so much fucking trouble then?"

Lisa froze, and her breathing hitched. Jackson heard it and glanced maliciously at her, cocking his head as he nailed her with his gaze. "Still think I'm a good person?"

She didn't move, and she barely breathed. Her eyes focused intensely on a piece of the kitchen door frame in front of them that needed painting, trying to grasp some piece of reality. How come they were sitting here, discussing his plot against her as if they talked about this every day?

"I… still don't know… why you don't… why you didn't…"

"Don't what?" he asked sharply.

"Ehm… don't kill me…" He voice faltered and she bit her lip and frowned, unable to look at him. She really didn't believe she would suddenly give him the idea to kill her just because she mentioned it, but still it felt insanely stupid to ask him straight out.

He sighed barely noticeably. "Well… you're not going to make the phone call… and I've lost my appetite for just plain retaliation. It's just dumb. It's rarely worth it. Like a wise man once said; if you're going for revenge, then you gotta dig two graves…"

Frowning, she looked questioningly at him, but he didn't meet her gaze. _Why the two graves?_ "Oh," she said weakly and went back to stare at the opposite wall. _I thought you… liked me…a little… and maybe that's why…_

Lisa almost jumped out of her skin when she suddenly felt warm fingertips at her cheek. Her eyes darted to meet his, and as she did, he pulled back his hand. She thought she saw an emotion flicker through his gaze, but then it vanished as quickly as if it had never existed.

_Tenderness? _

"I'll have to disappear."

_Oh…_

She nodded and bit her lower lip, feeling a brief sting of...

_What?_

"If they'll do what you said… then yes, that sounds like a good thing to do," she agreed.

"There ain't no such thing as 'good', Leese," he said in a dark voice.

Lisa wanted to tell him it was going to be OK. But she had no idea if it would. It probably wouldn't… She wanted to thank him… but she wasn't sure for what.

_For letting me go? For my life…? _

_For waking me and showing me my strength?_

Because he had done just that; this time she'd never given in but had fought him from start – and no one had gotten hurt. She'd done what she knew was right even if it could have ended in disaster.

The knowledge filled her with pride.

And still she felt sad.

Throwing the bloodied towel on the counter, Jackson started to get up and Lisa too stirred, trying to push her aching body up from the floor, groaning from the effort. She flinched when he stretched his hand towards her. Hesitantly, she took it and with the help of his strong arm, she almost flew up.

She knew he wouldn't come back, and for that she should feel eternally grateful. Still it felt like treason. He just couldn't leave her alone… with THIS. With the scars, the hurt, the memories, that soft spot inside that he had touched. She didn't have anyone else to share it with… and when he was gone… she'd be alone again.

"I knew you'd come…you know…" The words blurted out before she'd even thought them over.

He flinched and looked sharply at her. "Well… didn't take an Einstein to figure that out."

"I mean… I… anticipated it… I mean…" She looked down as her tongue suddenly grew in her mouth, her cheeks flushed from the words that had popped out of her mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, frowning.

_Don't make me… You know too…_

Lisa swallowed nervously. Why did she get out on this mine field now, just when he was about to leave?

To leave her alone…

_Don't you want him to? Of course you do!_

"No… nothing. Forget it. It's nothing." She pressed her lips together and looked out the window. It was dark; had been for a couple of hours. She could see the distant lights from an airplane descending on its way to Miami International. Suddenly, she realised she was looking at the reflection of Jackson, and that he had stepped closer.

Lisa swirled around, afraid of what he'd do.

What he might still do.

Jackson loomed over her, his presence engulfing her like it had all from start. She looked up into his unbelievable pools of blue. 'Honest' had been the first word that had come into her mind as she'd seen him a week ago. Before she knew… Before all of this happened. Before he'd revealed his true purpose with approaching her.

For a few fleeting moments he'd made her feel all woman again. Made her forget her previous trauma, made her enjoy herself in the presence of a man… Relaxing with a handsome charming stranger… reading more into a meeting than there was…

Travels did that to people.

She blinked when he lifted his hand and placed a finger gently under her chin, tilting her head back, her face meeting his. Her heart pounded loud and quick as he lowered his head and let his lips brush over hers.

Then he abruptly let go and straightened himself.

Lisa swayed as she stood on her own again, her heart trying to hammer its way out of her chest. Her mind went blank, desperate to block out any attempts to interpret the action. It was just something that…

-happened…

He regarded her for a moment, and then he licked his lips, his blue eyes making her shudder. "I should have done it at Joe's place."

"N…" Lisa wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue and started over, slowly shaking her head. "No, you shouldn't."

Jackson looked mildly startled and then his face split into a grin, his eyes warming just a bit.

"You've been quite a challenge…"

He absentmindedly winced as he rubbed his head where she had hit him, and where the blood had begun to dry in his hair.

'_You've been quite a challenge…'_ With an aching heart, Lisa followed his back with her gaze as he turned and walked out of the kitchen..

_So have you._

She heard him by the door, then it went quiet. Lisa still hadn't moved. _Is he gone?_ When she heard the soft rustle of feet against the carpet, she sighed shakily with an unexpected feeling of anticipation.

_Not quite yet…_

Jackson showed up again in the door to the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. Lisa didn't move. They stared at each other for a moment, and then he cleared his throat and scratched a little at the bandage below his Adam's apple. "Do me a favour, Lisa; lock your door when I leave. Never, ever let a stranger into your apartment again. OK? Take a little better care of yourself. Not everybody is…"

He never finished the sentence.

_You…I know…_

Lisa nodded wide-eyed, unable to speak, swallowing too hard for her sore throat, and Jackson disappeared again. This time she heard the front door open and quietly close.

When she heard the discreet click, she began moving her numb aching body, her mind almost blank. She imagined she could still feel the warmth of his hand on the door knob as she made sure that the door was securely closed and locked.

She leaned her forehead against the door. Maybe it was just wishful thinking; but it still felt like he was on the other side of that door.

Hiding.

Waiting.

Plotting.

_Good luck, Jackson, with whatever you need to do._

Then she hooked the safety chain into place.

-

THE END


End file.
